distress, now stiffened and curled as she confronted the dignified
figure before her. "It is not of my father I would speak," she
said saucily: "I did not ride here alone to-night, in this weather,
to talk of HIM; I warrant HE can speak for himself. I came here to
speak of myself, of lies--ay, LIES told of me, a poor girl; ay, of
cowardly gossip about me and my sweetheart, Capt. Brewster, now
confined in prison because he hath loved me, a lass without
polities or adherence to the cause--as if 'twere necessary every
lad should ask the confidence or permission of yourself or, belike,
my Lady Washington, in his preferences."

She paused a moment, out of breath. With a woman's quickness of
intuition she saw the change in Washington's face,--saw a certain
cold severity overshadowing it. With a woman's fateful
persistency--a persistency which I humbly suggest might, on
occasion, be honorably copied by our more politic sex--she went on
to say what was in her, even if she were obliged, with a woman's
honorable inconsistency, to unsay it an hour or two later; an
inconsistency which I also humbly protest might be as honorably
imitated by us--on occasion.

"It has been said," said Thankful Blossom quickly, "that my father
has given entertainment knowingly to two spies,--two spies that,
begging your Excellency's pardon, and the pardon of Congress, I
know only as two honorable gentlemen who have as honorably tendered
me their affections. It is said, and basely and most falsely too,
that my sweetheart, Capt. Allan Brewster, has lodged this
information. I have ridden here to deny it. I have ridden here to
demand of you that an honest woman's reputation shall not be
sacrificed to the interests of politics; that a prying mob of